Poisoned Wine
by livelyheart
Summary: Empress of Orlais, Clarice plays the Grand Game like a born natural and toys with people like a puppet master. After a sudden shift of power and turn of events, she ends up requesting help from an unexpected ally, the Inquisition. (INCOMPLETE)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Dragon Age franchise, nor I ever will.**

/\\\/\\\/\\\/\

 _The Game, wine, politics...and pretty dresses. Welcome to The Winter Palace._

 _Chapter I: The Winter Palace_

Empress of Orlais, Clarice confidently strode through the luxurious halls of The Winter Palace with her trusted advisor, Basil, at her side.

"Your Radiance, the Inquisition has arrived." The worried advisor informed while adjusting his silver mask in a hurry.

She responded, "Very well, and the King of Ferelden?"

Clarice had expected the foreign monarch to be a tad late from the lengthy distance. He was now ticking her irritation and she must make her arrival to the ball shortly.

The Council had instructed the Empress to hold the ball in honour of the Inquisitor for her heroic acts which led to the defeating Corypheus. It would have been a travesty for Orlais as well as Ferelden to fall to the ancient darkspawn and Clarice was joyful for the outcome, however holding this ball for the Inquisition was the last thing she desired.

Naturally, she was pleased and grateful for the Inquisition, however she knew full well the Inquisition was not in festive spirit. The ball might be necessary. Orlesian culture's unwritten rules required such pomp and circumstance, as necessary. But tonight's ball was the third such affair she had attended this month and she was growing weary of the events.

"He has not yet arrived," Basil said while attempting to arrange the drape of her skirt.

In Orlais, fashion was significant and elaborate among the nobles. vast. The nobles wore similar modest dresses however being Empress had its advantages. For example, she could wear whatever she pleased and instead of society frowning upon it, they would cherish the eccentricity and start a trend.

Clarice's dress was not big or puffy, in fact, it was a slim trumpet with an off-the-shoulder bodice of silver. A bejewelled belt hugged her waist and accented the relatively simplistic navy skirts that flowed loosely around her ankles. Half of her face was covered with a golden mask with colourful gems encrusted on it.

She stopped in front of the large doors that led to the balcony of the ballroom and spun to Basil. He was not only her trusted advisor; he was her only only friend in the Empire. Basil had known Clarice since she was a child and taught her everything she knew, from elegant table manners to horseback riding.

Basil rearranged her skirt yet again. She stepped away, interrupting his actions. "Basil, the dress looks fine," she gently assured.

"Every important person in Thedas is in that ballroom, you must look magnificent!" Exclaimed Basil.

"I have waited long enough." Clarice pronounced as she lightly swatted Basil's fretting hands away.

She gave him a small, meaningful smile before she commanded the guards to open the entrances.

The light from the ballroom spilled into the dim hallway with the soft tune and banter which filled the enormous room. _The Game is on,_ Clarice thought as she let out a huff and sauntered, step by step, across the high balcony. She kept her back straight and head high, never looking at the guests below her.

When she finally reached the center, she shifted and looked at the guests with the biggest, brightest smile; it hurt her jaw. Everyone hushed and looked patiently at the Empress, finally receiving her awaited arrival.

The large crystal chandelier looming above them all lit the ballroom brightly. The blue curtains popped colour into the room. Everything in the Winter Palace was beautiful and carefully planned; the art fresco on the walls to the marble dance floor. The ballroom was so familiar to Clarice that she had grown unfazed by its splendour from all the balls spent here since birth.

What drew her breath away in excitement were the guests; the nobles and the royals, all under her command. Clarice loved the power she held and had never mistaken it. All present played the Game she was an avid participate of and she enjoyed every minute of it.

The Game had always been a fascination to her as a child. She wondered why her mother had always laughed and chatted with nobles however Clarice secretly knew Valrora had ordered a bard to poison their cup later that night. The noble woman puked all over the dance floor that night, making a laughingstock in front of the Empire. She has never shown her face in the Palace again. Her mother's intentions were extreme however there were no rules in the Game.

She desired to know more; she wanted to understand the lies, the backstabbing and politics.

Clarice spent years at her mother's side watching the nobles: reading their weaknesses, their strengths and especially their facial expressions when lying. The largest giveaway was the eyes and the smile. Also, the difference Empress Valora made a hobby of quietly moving her pawns in a hidden and deadly game. When Clarice succeeded to the throne, she was not so circumspect. She was the most powerful woman in the Thedas and she was not afraid to flaunt it. The Valmont family was well-established in their power.

While surveying the guests, she spotted the Inquisition easily in its red formal attire. Clarice had always thought it odd that the women insisted once more on wearing the Inquisition's uniform as they had the previous Palace ball.

The first she spotted was Ambassador Josephine who was old friend of Clarice. She was next to her sisters, who dressed to impress. Next, she spotted the Inquisitor herself with the Commander of the Inquisition's army. The dwarf looked tiny next to the large, and clearly miserable, Commander. The male looked like he would rather be in the company of darkspawn than milling among sparkling nobles. Clarice could not locate Leliana, who stood who always lurked in the shadows. The Empress had always respected the Spymaster's abilities.

Clarice finally declared, "Welcome, my friends. In the events of the previous month, the Inquisition has defeated Corypheus and has put Orlais and Thedas in peace. In ages of the future, we can safely say, we have left our children and _their_ children in a brighter world. The Orlesian Empire will remain strong and continue to fight along the side of the right.

"We are here this evening to honour the Inquisition for their bravery. We are grateful and would like everyone to show our guests the utmost respect and gratitude. For their perseverance, their strength...and their courage." A wave of applause erupted, then died down as Clarice lifted her hand.

She finished proudly, "Feast, for tonight we are celebrating a great victory and many more to come."

 _Now, the fun begins,_ Clarice thought as she displayed a wide smile before taking Basil's arm to descend the marble stairs. She had practiced the speech only one time and it went as expected: smoothly. The speech was the easiest part of the evening, the interesting part would be playing The Grand Game.

"Well done, Your Majesty," Basil praised as they reached the end of the stairs. She awaited him to give her his usual instructions for the evening.

"Thank you, Basil," she responded as she scanned the crowd of royals and nobles.

She spotted her younger sister and brother speaking formally to Duke Cyril de Montfort. The Duke was quite a tall man with ink black hair.

"Empress, you must make the rounds as usual tonight. Talk to the Orlesians first and then the Inquisition, spend a generous amount of your time with them."

She began to walk to her siblings but was interrupted as Basil gently touched her arm and whispered in her ear quietly, "Play well, Clarice."

She nodded and strolled through the ballroom. Compliments fluttered around her like butterflies, masks obscuring the true intent of those who spoke them, but she, the most powerful woman in Orlais, had no need to fear insects. She basked in the attention and listened closely-she was radiant, her speech was inspiring, the gown was marvelous.

They did not wish to discuss politics tonight and Clarice was not surprised. After all, this was a _celebratory_ ball, everyone wanted to enjoy themselves and get a tad bit druken. However, she knew behind these nice compliments were wicked hearts and beyond those elaborate masks were wicked eyes. The Game never stopped, no matter the occasion.

* * *

After making the rounds with the Orlesians, Clarice finally came across the Inquisitor. The dwarven lady was conversing with her enormous Qunari companion.

"The Inquisitor, herself," Clarice said as she swayed her hips to Cadash.

The Inquisitor was a dwarf named Malika from the Cadash family. She was recognizably short and had light freckles spread across her cheeks. She has eyes of green and rare red hair. The dwarf was pretty however Clarice didn't care what she looked liked, her rank was the lone important factor.

"A pleasure, Your Imperial Majesty."

 _Well, well, well,_ her manners have drastically improved since the _last_ time the Empress encountered her. Clarice was slightly impressed and shocked from the Inquisitor however did not display it and instead kept a small smile on her face. Cadash acted like she belonged here and had a new bubble of confidence surrounding her. Saving Thedas _should_ give that new exterior, she supposed.

"Please, call me Clarice," She said like it was very casual for the Ruler of Orlais to say that. "I suspect everything is well in Skyhold?"

Clarice's eyes drifted to the Qunari at the dwarf's side and it dawned upon her as she hid a smile. The Inquisitor and the Qun were evidently romantically involved. She could tell by the way the huge beast of a man lingered to the Inquisitor's side, protective despite being unarmed. An odd couple, indeed. Cadash barely came up to the his hip.

"Very much so, thank you." Cadash said politely.

"I wanted to give you my thanks personally. All of Thedas would have fallen to Corypheus if it weren't for you," The Empress said, testing the Inquisitor.

She knew Cadash was still offended due to the fact that the Clarice had first doubted her.

A look crossed over the dwarfs face and disappeared. Cadash smiled forcedly and replied, "Thank you, _Clarice_."

Clarice hid her frown and gave Cadash a sweet face and dismissed, "A delight, Inquisitor."

The Inquisitor had courage. Clarice had not expected the dwarf to take up her offer of her informal name. She was impressed if not a bit irritated by her informality.

"Your Radiance." The girls surrounding by the Commander cooed while she passed through.

Clarice stopped and rested her hands behind her back. She looked at the Commander and realized he has been isolated and not made his way to the dance floor once this evening. By the looks of his crowd, he seemed to be have asked _several_ times. She gave the young girls a suggestive look and they scampered away.

 _This will be interesting_ , she thought as went to stand beside the Commander, freely sizing him up. Commander Cullen surprisingly cleaned up nice. His curly blonde hair was swept aside and he was clean-shaven for the evening. His formal attire was made of fine material and was, to say the least, better than his armour with that ugly fur that the Empress had seen once when she visited Skyhold.

"Commander," Clarice said as she stood beside him nonchalantly. The Commander shifted uncomfortably and she smirked.

He bristled, "Your Majesty." The poor thing must be wondering why the Empress was in his company.

She asked him while gesturing to the dance floor, "Don't care for dancing?"

"I try to avoid it." The Commander said while crossing his arms behind his back, trying his best to look proper.

He averted his gaze away from the Empress and she could see the sweat that glistened on his forehead.

Clarice held her amused laughter at how anxious she made the Commander as she asked, "How come?"

"I don't enjoy the attention," He said. "If you don't mind me asking, why hasn't the Empress had a dance yet?"

Clarice raised a thin brow, "I do not dance until the last. It is an old Orlesian tradition." She grinned slyly as she continued, "How can I get you on this dance floor tonight, Commander?"

He shifted and stuttered, "I-I, really am terrible, Your Majesty."

The Empress started, "Oh, you cannot be _that_ bad."

A server carried a tray of wine towards the Empress and brought his head down respectfully. She politely refused the glass, but the Commander took one and thanked the server.

He asked, "Do you not like to drink?"

"It's not the taste I do not like. I do not like the alcohol," the Empress told truthfully, "I...like to be in _control_."

It was true Clarice never drank, not even the tiniest sip of wine. She had seen how different it made people. Alcohol made the strongest man into crybabies. The council was significant and Clarice listened to what they advised; however they never controlled her. The idea of not being in control of yourself was rather frightening to her.

"Empress!"

Suddenly, Basil arrived in front of Clarice and Cullen. He was slightly hunched over and tried to contain his breath. He breathed, "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

The Empress rested a gentle hand on Basil's shoulder and assured, "I'm here. Whatever is the matter?"

"The King has arrived, Your Radiance."

 _It's about time,_ Clarice thought as she rolled her eyes and groaned, "Well where is he?" She looked above from the balcony and spotted him with his guards and nobles near the entrance. "Never mind."

Before she walked away, she looked at the Commander and said sweetly, "Commander, your resistance to dance is rather disappointing."

 _Oh_ how she _loved_ being Empress. All the harmless threatening was quite fun and she loved to irritate high-ranked men and make them feel small. It was one of her beloved things to do, other than play The Game. Commander Cullen was just another highly-ranked man in Thedas who meant nothing to the Empress.

Clarice liked to play games other than The Grand Game.

* * *

Clarice saw the King and smiled. The ruler had his hair pulled back and was wearing his black and purple formal attire. The gold medals shone brightly and he had crossed his arms behind his back. He had aged immensely since he became King with his worry lines deepened and creases enveloped his forehead.

The King spotted her and smiled as they gave each other a gentle hug.

"Alistair." The Empress said as she released her grasp on him. "You're quite late, friend. Explain."

She had met Alistair when he was crowned as King of Ferelden. She had not expected to like the foreign monarch, however his humour had been a pleasant contrast with her own serious demeanour. They quickly became good friends and their countries prospered in harmony.

"I'm sorry, Clarice. The trip had a few...bumps," He told.

She laughed, "Like what?"

He lifted his arms and exclaimed, "A dragon! A large, fiery, dragon. And of course, _I_ killed it."

" _How brave of you._ " The Empress laughed as she indulged in his ridiculous lie. "You must be starving from dragon slaying, come let's eat."

"As you command!" Alistair exclaimed joyfully as they walked towards the feast.

/\\\/\\\/\\\/\

 _Dancing is an art in Orlias, which the Lords and Ladies must be skilled in._

Cullen sighed in relief as he watched the Empress walk away towards the King.

 _Maker's breath,_ Cullen thought hastily as he leaned against the wall and shut his eyes. The Empress frightened him and his heart was still beating fast from the nervous banter. Cullen knew the Empress had meant to make him uncomfortable and awkward but he couldn't understand the reason as to why.

Cullen knew the Empress' ways. She captivated powerful men and kept them wrapped around her little finger, perhaps like she kept King Alistair. She was persuasive and cunning, not physically strong but she was as deadly as any leader. Clarice never did anything without a reason. Everything she did and said, she had calculated the outcome. She had planned it. The Empress was a true spectacle to admire and fear.

He watched the Empress dance with the King. She moved elegantly and never took her eyes off her partner. It would seem like they were, _connected_ however Cullen believed the Empress had the King under her spell. A relationship of the two most powerful people in Thedas, now _that_ would be the talk of the century.

Iron Bull and the Inquisitor walked up to the Commander with an odd look. He was alone from the ladies the Empress had thankfully banished. He just hoped they wouldn't return.

"What did the Empress want?" Malika asked seriously and put a lingering hand on her hip.

Cullen was well aware of the dwarfs feeling towards the Empress and did understand them. The Empress had been quite disbelieving of the Inquisition at first and did not fully accept them until her life was almost taken the previous time they were in the Palace.

Cullen sighed, as he felt comfortable again, "Nothing really, I suppose she was giving us her thanks," The Commander lied, considering the Empress had never thanked him once personally.

Iron Bull blasted, "She is scary." Malika slapped the Qunari on his stomach, where she could reach and glared at him.

She whispered while looking around, "Quiet, every Orlesian is her ears."

Cullen listened to them bicker as he involuntarily let his eyes wander to the dancing Empress once more.

* * *

Cullen waited impatiently for the tiring evening to be over.

He really needed to return back to Skyhold, there was still so much to do be done. Since the Breach was fully sealed and the Inquisitor defeated Corypheus, the troops had taken a rather long break and they were to be whipped up in good shape again.

The night was finally coming to an end and he could not be any happier. He walked toward the balcony and rested his arms on the railing. He overlooked the happy guests and wondered what actually living in Orlias would be like.

The fashion was great and he had appreciated it however thought it to be unnecessary at times. Living in the Winter Palace would be extravagant to say the least, however he wondered how they kept warm in the winters, a Palace is built differently from a Castle.

The Game was never a hard concept to understand for Cullen. He knew full well he wouldn't be good at it. He wasn't a good liar, or charmer at that. These people, the royals and nobles, they were nasty behind the lies. Cullen knew the Empress was as wicked as everyone else in the room tonight.

Speaking of her, a gentle arm touched his shoulder he was surprised to see the Empress standing behind him a sly smirk. Everything about her shouted regal, from her held high head to her insanely straight posture. She wore a mask that revealed her brown eyes.

She said knowingly, "I haven't seen you on the dance floor yet once this evening, Commander."

"Well, Maker blessed me for _that_ ," He pointed out. The Commander mentally scolded himself for not watching his words more carefully.

She nonchalantly replied in her Orlesian accent, which was easy to follow, "I suppose."

Abruptly, a high-pitched voice cracked out, "Your radiance, if you would do me the pleasure of having this last dance with I?"

The intruder was quite big and had large growing stomach. He had on the typical Orlesian nobility attire and sported a rather crazy hat.

The Empress smiled as radiantly as her title and took the man's hand with both hands and raised a brow at Cullen for a second before she chuckled, "Duke Cyril de Montfort! If only you had asked sooner…"

She looked at Cullen wickedly and said, "However, I have already promised the Commander the _last dance_."

 _Wait. Did she just…?_

The Empress watched Cullen expectantly with an amused smile on her face. Cullen said nervously, "Uh, yes, I am quite sorry, Your Grace."

"Oh, don't be, young man. Have a nice evening," The Duke said briefly and rushed away, likely feeling embarrassed of being rejected by the Empress.

"Do not appear so nervous, it is easy," Clarice bristled casually as she leans on the ledge.

"B-but," Cullen started. The Empress frowned and put a finger on her lips. She commanded, "No buts, Commander." Cullen shut up.

He backed away and stumbled, feeling nervous and a little fearful being around the Empress yet again.

"Shall we put it this way, the Commander of the Inquisition did me great favour by rescuing me from dancing with the disturbing Duke. The Empress owes you one, does that not sound pleasant?"

"I-I."

"The dance is about to begin, Commander," The Empress interrupted and held out a delicate hand which Cullen forcefully and regretfully took.

They made their way through the balcony where he could hear the guests giggle at the sight of the Commander. He also heard hushed whispers for the Empress. He passed Josie and she looked like she was about to faint. Cullen knew that if he messed this up, the Inquisition's image would be damaged. He gave Josie a reassuring smile that said everything would be alright, Cullen could only hope that would turn out to be true.

They walked down the stairs and walked on the dance floor. It was just the Empress and the Commander.

 _Where is everyone else? Please don't tell me this is a duet only..._

The Commander's heart was racing in fear of embarrassing himself in front of everyone important in Thedas. He could feel everyone staring at them, _him_. Cullen felt lightheaded as each second past.

 _Come on man, get it together! You have slain dragons and darkspawn. This is easy compared to everything else. You know the steps, just don't step on her feet!_

Easier said than done, at once, the beautiful melody echoed throughout the ballroom, the Empress curtsied gracefully and Cullen bowed shortly after.

Cullen stretched out his hand and Clarice took it gently and they pushed together. They begin to step largely, listening to the tune. Cullen tried his best to not step on her or his own feet and focused very hard on messing up the moves. The dance was simple enough, with turns and spins and even more turns and spins.

"You're doing rather well," Declared The Empress while looking at Cullen.

Her hands felt light in his hand and he noticed how many years of dancing practice she has had to move so gracefully.

Her long hair bounced off her back as she twirled. The way the Empress carried herself was likely what made people captivated by her. She had an air of confidence surrounding her that was charming.

However, she wanted him wrapped around her finger but Cullen Rutherford was never one to be tossed. He still feared her, all right, but he was now wary of her as well.

Cullen replied hastily, "It's not that I can't dance. I choose not to."

"Don't like the attention, fear the embarrassment?" The Empress said while gliding her hands and stepping back.

"E-exactly so," Cullen responded, feeling slightly shocked she eerily knew what exactly he felt.

Cullen spun the Empress around and he felt his irritation grow toward the Empress higher and higher. Cullen knew what kind of game the Empress was playing. The last thing Cullen wanted to do was to join.

The song picked up and more steps are to occur and faster. Cullen and the Empress dance, like it is a competition to see if he will fail or not.

"The evening is almost over, pleased?" She tested him.

He lied, "No, Your Radiance. I enjoyed the evening fully."

She laughed which was haunting and made a shiver run through his spine.

"Really? Well, I for one am excited to rest."

"Interesting, I would have thought you would enjoy this the most," He said after spinning her around. The music slowed down, winding to the completion of the song.

She said while they slow down and finish the dance, "Everything gets tiring after time, Commander."

"Very true," He said while the music halted and he blesses Maker for not embarrassing himself.

"Too much of anything will do that," She said quietly while giving Cullen a grin. "I like to try new things occasionally."

She raised a brow and confirmed, "A pleasure."

Before Cullen could even respond, the Empress spun and walked away from him, leaving the Commander alone on the dance floor with over a hundred eyes glued to him.

 _Maker's breath, the Empress truly is wicked._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Dragon Age franchise, nor I ever will.**

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 _One must wait weeks before allowing their significant other their true opinions._

 _Chapter II: Letters of Misconduct_

"Is this all?" Clarice asked dutifully as she sat atop Basil's wooden desk.

She ran her fingers through the high stack of letters that rested in her hands and bit her lip in anxiousness.

It was a standard peaceful Saturday afternoon, several days after the Palace ball. The windows in Ambassador Basil's office were wide open and the crisp wind breezed through the spacious area. A melody of birds was cooing in the distance and the Empress enjoyed the calming tune.

She enjoyed serene afternoons, if she was to read through hundreds of letters, she would much rather be in a pleasant and calming setting. The Winter Palace was more relaxing without the extravagant parties and fancy balls. With the celebration period finally over, the Empress was free to resume her normal duties, which included all the of the paperwork required.

Basil scanned his messy desk once more before he confirmed, "Yes, I believe so."

She viewed his desk, which had parchments and letters scattered all over. He had never kept a clean desk or office. Basil had commanded the maids to not even lay even a finger in his office, for he knew where everything was and did not want compromise that factor. He did not even let them sweep the floor or dust his bookshelves, even though every book he too out had a dusty cover.

The Empress skimmed his desk a last time and spotted a red stamp peeking through from under a pile of dusty books. She fixed her gaze on the stamp as she set aside the books and dug the paper as it revealed to be a letter.

"What's this?" She pondered. Flipping the envelope over in her hand, she saw that it had already been sliced opened in a hurriedly manner, with some tears still left.

Basil gaped at her and suddenly dived for the letter. He yelled, "Please, don't read that!"

Clarice gave him a raised brow and stopped the fretting man by laying one hand on his head, stopping him from reaching the letter. She recited the letter to Basil in the other hand.

 _Basil,_

 _Ever since the ball, I could not stop thinking about you. I wish to see you very soon._

 _Sincerely, Dorian Pavus_

After reading the letter loudly, Clarice's mouth formed a small circle as she realized what she had just narrated. She looked at her Ambassador with wide eyes and began to tap him on the arm.

"Maker!" The Empress cursed under her breath as read the letter to herself again. She burst out, "Dorian Pavus, the Tevinter from the Inquisition?"

"Uh, indeed." Embarrassed, Basil unconsciously rubbed the stinging mark the Empress hand left on his arm.

He looked down sheepishly as he sighed, telling the story, "At the ball, we...shared a token of affection."

"You... _kissed_? When were you planning on telling me this?" Clarice demanded joyfully, handing the letter back to him and looking at the man with tease.

 _Basil and Dorian,_ she had not foreseen that development. Basil had openly told her he was attracted to men a few years previously, however he did not have the need to. It was quite obvious to Clarice, perhaps he had thought the Empress had not noticed the sent letters or how he occasionally boasted about a noble man's handsome face. Additionally, the advisor had a _splendid_ fashion sense that was admirable and beneficial.

Same-sex marriage or having multiple relationships was quite acceptable in Orlais, in fact she knew a Marquis who had three lovers, and _one_ was male. The eccentric people would do justice for that opinion. Ferelden thought it was a rather odd idea however she was further astonished to hear the Tevinter mage was homosexual, for it was greatly shamed upon in the country.

Basil said truthfully, "Never, actually." He forcefully awkwardly laughed. "I apologize, Your Radiance. I never intended to respond."

It oddly sounded like the advisor was scared of what she would think. She never would have thought he would find a lover, not because of his orientation, however his work had always kept him busy and never allowed him to keep a relationship. She wanted to help her friend; for she had seen how much stress the Ambassador went through on regular. It would be lovely to see the man happy. However, Clarice did not know if lover would be a suitable distraction.

"Why not?" Clarice alleged straight-faced. "He seems to enjoy your company. Do you not his?"

Basil looked down and frowned. He muttered, "I enjoyed it very much so. However, my duties rise first."

She frowned as she saw how torn he truly was. She knew Basil had had relationships in the past. But because of his position, it was rare to find love that had strings attached.

Clarice bellowed honestly, "Why can't it? If I allow it, none others opinion matter." She finished seriously while walking towards the window, "Write the man back, Basil."

She rested her hand on the pane and grinned outwards. "Empress' orders."

The advisor gave her a shy gracious look and acknowledged, "Thank you, Your Majesty. I am the utmost grateful."

"Enough with the off-task, _although much needed_ , talk! We have work to complete." She beamed as she swayed one of the countless letters under his nose mockingly.

* * *

After numerous, _numerous_ letters, Clarice slumped in her seat as she held a enclosed parchment in the air. Dinner was to occur in half an hour and she had grown a bit peckish.

She sighed, "The last letter, Thank the Maker."

They had been opening and reading messages continuously for the past three hours. Her fingers lightly cramped and her back ached from hunching over. They had three piles; Pile 1 was for letters that were of importance and needed to be looked at by the council. Pile 2 was for letters that could be important, however they could be overlooked. Pile 3 was for letters that were complete drivel _although_ some entertaining.

For example, one letter from a noble complained about a dead bird that had been thrown in his window and shattered it. She was curious if the man was lying in hope for attention or it had actually occurred. Either way, it was definitely not the Empress' problem however she did have a chuckle when she read it.

Clarice ripped opened the final letter and read it for Basil.

She recited to him, "A report: The runaway servant elves have been found. For circumstances, some were killed however the remaining survivors have been brought to the Palace for judgement. -Commander Danna."

"It's about time we found those elves…." Basil chirped as he grabbed the report from her.

Clarice crossed her hands, zoning the blabbering advisor out. She had never met the elves personally however wondered what had made the servants runaway. The Palace had unlimited sleeping chambers and they had three respectable meals a day. She wondered where they had expected to escape. Perhaps they expected to find the Dalish?

She did not necessarily find the elves pesky or disliked them, however, she was taught at a young age to believe elves were only assistants for the humans. Clarice had wanted to give them better living customs however did not necessarily know how to please the nobles with that decision.

In fact, she did not believe she could. Establishing a relationship with the elves would certainly _not_ please the council and she had enough trouble with the Council as is..

Basil tapped on her hand, interrupting her train of thought and he questioned, "Your Majesty? Do you not agree?"

"Oh, uh. Indeed I believe so." The Empress croaked eventually, no knowledge on what he had trailed on.

Precisely on time, a knock erupted from the door and Basil exclaimed, "Enter!"

Clarice's' elf handmaiden appeared through the door with a small smile. She was a pretty thing with big doe eyes behind her simple mask.

She said, in her light voice, "Your Radiance, dinner is prepared."

Clarice sighed in relief as she set aside some read letters that were piling on her lap and stood from her seat. She chimed gratefully, "Thank you, Paulella."

She observed back to see Basil standing from his chair. Taking his arm, they began to follow the elf.

After their trek, they finally entered the Grand Dining Room. The hall was stretched to accommodate for the marble feasting table that seated nearly a hundred honored guests. Behind the head of the table stood a carved fountain in a maiden, framing the elaborate seat of the Empress herself.

The walls were covered in painting by famous artists across Thedas. The collection was known to leave even the staunchest critic speechless, yet Clarice barely looked at the painting once they were hung.

She preferred to maker her own masterpiece in the political canvas.

Even though the large dining room was built for many, only the Empress' close family was present. Which included, her brother and her sister.

Pierre was conversing to Marie and when they saw the Empress they smiled brightly to which she returned. Paulella stood in near the entrance of the door.

"Brother." She smiled and nodded, "Sister."

They were wearing masks however wore their casual day outfits. She tugged her lip when she realized her youngest sister has not arrived yet. Her delay was most frowned upon; the Empress was to always enter the dining hall last and that was the commencing of the meal. And every meal in the Winter Palace could be recognized as a feast.

Clarice smiled forcefully at the siblings. She asked, testiness growing, "Where is Vienet?"

Pierre responded harshly, "Not sure, perhaps lost track of time with her dolls and makeup."

Her sister began to chuckle at the comment. However, Clarice kept quiet. It did not apply to Vienet at all, considering she disliked Orlesian customs and most of all, The Grand Game. Her brother's comment was to aggravate the young teen behind her back.

Pierre was a _complex_ man to say the least. He sometimes was a very supportive brother however at other times, the Prince was intolerable. His views on the elves and Ferelden were cruel at times. When the Prince gave her his 'suggestions' the Empress always discarded them.

"Oh, hush!" Marie lightly hit his shoulder and tried to hide her smile. "Although, it is likely correct."

Clarice did not have much of an opinion of her sister other than she was the typical Orlesian royal. One that glorified dresses and suitable matches.

She sighed in annoyance as she looked at the entrance once more. She instructed, "Paulella, if you could fetch her."

The elf nodded her head before confirming, "As you wish, Your Majesty." She quickly left in search of her late sister.

"I wonder where she is," Basil cooed curiously from the end of the table. "I am famished."

Clarice agreed and huffed. Her irritation slowly grew; Vienet knew she could not be late like this in the future. The Empress had never had patience.

Abruptly, the handmaiden appeared in the entrance and she respired, out of breath from running, "Your sister is refusing to leave her room."

 _Maker give me patience,_ Clarice thought vexed as she asked intolerantly, "For what for?"

"I'm not positive, perhaps I could bring dinner to her room."

"There is no need for that," The Empress sat up from her seat and declared absolutely exasperated, " _I_ will handle her."

Her siblings and Basil followed her towards Vienet's chambers. Clarice was not furious or fuming, however she was maddened. Her head pounded with her heartbeat as she stomped to her sister's chambers.

After turns and long hallway walks, she finally stopped in front of her sister's chamber. Basil and her siblings were behind her but gave her space as she flicked her wrist for them to step back more.

She tried to open it however the door was locked. She jiggled the knob before she put an ear to the door and tried to hear Vienet through the heavy door. After a few seconds, the Empress could hear a soft sob and in an instant, she knocked the door and said loud enough for her sister to hear.

"Vienet, open the door this instance."

Silence insured and Clarice knocked on the door harder and louder.

She exclaimed, "Unlock this door!" After a few minutes of dead silence she declared, "I command you to unlock the door before I knock it down, never mistake my word."

It may have been harsh however Clarice did not know how else to handle her sister. With a few light footsteps, the door clicked open and Clarice swung it open to find her sister standing in front of her with tears streaming down her plump face.

Clarice refrained from sighing in annoyance as she wondered why her sister was devastated this time.

"Stay away from me!" Vienet yelled as she backed a few feet away, as if Clarice was a demon. The Empress raised a brow as she cautiously walked towards her sister.

Marie asked softly, realizing something was wrong, said, "Vienet, what is the matter?"

Her lips waivered and her entire body shook. The motion sent a shiver down Clarice's spine as she watched her young sister sob in her hands and slowly lower onto the ground.

Her siblings immediately went to her rescue and condoled her sister as Clarice sat there, completely still. She tore her gaze away from her sister and scanned around her room. It was clean, shiny, yet something was amiss for Clarice felt a cold winter breeze rush past her shoulder.

Her jaw dropped when she spotted a floor on ice in the corner of her room, near the vanity. Her brush and makeup had been spilled over and the chair had fallen.

 _A floor of ice? That looks like the work of a...unless,_

"Vienet..."

Her sister looked up with tears stained on her face. She continued to cry harder as Clarice discovered, " _You_ , are a _mage_."

Vienet sniffled and looked at her with red-rimmed eyes. When she finally stopped crying she nodded and croaked, "I-I."

"A mage?" Pierre said as he stood up and backed away from her in disgust.

Clarice thought it was a tad dramatic, even for her brother. Marie remained where she was however dropped her hands from Vienet and a look of shock plastered on her face.

"I n-never wanted to be one." She croaked as she trembled. "I can't live in a circle. _I will not._ "

"What do you suppose we do then? You cannot stay _here_." The Empress asked condescendingly as she crossed her arms over her chest.

The new mage shuddered, "I will not live in the Circle, I will _not._ " She prayed. "They are already falling apart. I always hated the Circle's, Clarice."

What she was true, the Circle was slowly falling apart. Even though after the Mage rebellion, the Circle will never be the way it is meant to be.

"What do you wish?"

"I'm not positive...perhaps be trained in private?" Vienet said while sniffing.

"In the Winter Palace, are you mad? The nobles will know and _fear you_ , Vienet you cannot stay here." Clarice urged while taking ahold of her sister's hands and pleading with her eyes.

Her sister brows wavered as she looked at Clarice with sad blue eyes. Clarice wished she knew of a way to reassure her sister that being a mage did not change how he felt about her. Vienet was family, mage or not.

The young girl slowly trailed on, "What about Vivienne? She is a mage, she could teach me."

Clarice chuckled as she thought her sister was joking. Clarice stopped laughing as she realised everyone was giving her an odd look and she frowned as she realized her sister had not been kidding.

"You do realize she is in _Skyhold_ , with the _Inquisition_ , correct?" She pondered while raising a brow at the naive mage.

She pled hopingly, "Please Clarice, I _know_ Vivienne, she will teach me. I will not be in Orlais or the Circle. It's the best solution, why can't you see that."

"Absolutely not." The Empress declared after a second, not taking into consideration what she said. If she left Orlias for Skyhold, Clarice was scared if her loyalties would move as well.

"Clarice. A word." Basil said sharply while glancing at her sister who was pleading.

" _Fine._ " Was all she muttered before she stomped out the cold chambers.

Clarice could feel the anger growing inside her as she thought how senseless her sister was acting. _Flee to Skyhold,_ was she mad?

She turned around and put her hands on her hips. She looked at Basil for any type of explanation as she exclaimed, "Basil, how is this possible?"

"Anyone can be a mage, Your Majesty." Basil countered.

Clarice opposed, "However, this late? Mages find their magic at a young age, do they not?"

Mages were not hated in Orlais, however they all had to join the Circle, no matter the circumstance, no matter the family standing. When a Mage from a high family was discovered, they have to leave their title and home. Even the Empress could not protect her sister from the Circle.

However conflict roiled in her stomach as she remembered what the Circle's were like at this moment. The last thing she wanted was to have Vienet an apostate. However, she also did not want her sister in danger of being tranquil or murdered in the Circle by fade demons. At least the Inquisition could protect the mage.

The law was clear, yet this was her sister, her blood.

"Not necessarily, anyone can be a mage, _at any time._ " Basil answered truthfully.

"Splendid, this is splendid." The Empress cried sarcastically as she let her arms swing. "What in the word am I supposed to do? She needs to be controlled and trained."

"She needs to be safe." Basil said. "Clarice. Think about the nobles, they will fear her if she remains in the Palace. The Circle is no better option."

"I understand. I will send the letter this evening." Clarice interrupted urgently as averted her eyes to the ground, knowing what she must do.

She did not know if she would regret this decision who if it would come and bite her in the future.

 _A notorious cure for the hangover; Chopped elfroot mixed with honey and water._

/\\\/\\\/\\\/\

"Have a drink, Kadan!" Iron Bull exclaimed to the Inquisitor ignoring the strong shook of her head.

She countered tiredly, "I cannot. I do _not_ want to have a hangover tomorrow."

She had a War Table meeting early in the morning tomorrow. A pounding headache would definitely not help her keep her focus.

"C'mon, just one." The Qun pled as held on her arm and laughed.

The dwarf looked at her lover and softened. She gave in as she stared at the tempting jug, "I suppose one couldn't hurt."

He chuckled, obviously drunk, "There we go!" The Qun poured Malika a cup and she happily took it.

After taking a long, swig she hit the table and exclaimed, "Ooof."

The Qun and dwarf began to laugh together in joy, enjoying each others company as always.

Suddenly, a recruit worriedly interrupts, "Your Worship, Ambassador Josephine has requested to see you in her office."

"Now?" She whined as she shut her eyes.

The recruit nodded and she cringed. She stood up from her seat, despite Iron Bull wrapping his arms around her hips.

She shrugged them off as she said, "Understood, thanks."

"Leaving so soon, Kadan? You haven't even finished your cup." He complained while resting his head on the table.

"Dont worry, I will be back." She said reassuringly while patting him on the head like a pet. She smiled before she walked towards the Ambassador's office that was located across Skyhold.

The Inquisitor looked at her outfit before opening the door to the office. She peered inside and saw Josie sitting at her desk, as usual. However, she had her brows furrowed as she looked at a parchment.

Malika sat in a brown, comfortable chair in front of the fireplace. Josie greeted, "Thank you for coming, Inquisitor."

"No problem, Josie."

"Malika, you might want to take a look at this." Josie handed her an opened parchment and she took questioningly.

"What is it?" The dwarf asked as she opened it and laid in front of her.

She began to read,

 _Ambassador Josephine,_

 _A young noble mage has requested to enter Skyhold to void the Circle of Magi. Understanded this may be unexpected however I have the hope, the Inquisitions Orlesian mage, Vivienne will train the Mage, in secrecy. If you confirm, the mage will be sent at soonest notice._

 _This would leave the Orlesian Empire grateful for the Inquisitions acts once again and would appreciate discretion in this delicate matter._

 _Respectfully, Empress Clarice Everdien_

 **Hey! Okay, so I forgot to put a A/N on my previous chapter. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please R &R!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Dragon Age franchise, nor I ever will.**

/\\\/\\\/\\\/\

 _Few Kings are strong without their Queens._

 _Chapter III: Timely Arrangements_

Swinging his arm on the opposite side of the bed, half believing someone would be present, Alistair yawned softly. He opened his eyes and scanned his large, empty room. The mosaic window showed a multicolured view of the sky and clouds above.

His chambers were always spotless, thanks to the maids. His wide bed that could fit three had the softest sheets and fluffiest pillows. No matter how comfortable the bed was, his nightmares continued. However, last night, he had not a nightmare, he had dreamed. Truly dreamed.

The only downfall was he had dreamt of her. Her long white hair that cascaded down her back. Her face tattoo and her big blue eyes that he adored. As the days passed, he thought more about her, more he missed.

No matter if he had not seen her for years, her face, her silhouette, her everything would always be looming in the front of Alistair's mind. He would never forget, he could not, no matter how hard he tried. Never forgotten a curve of a tattoo branch, the slope of her nose or the scar that ran past her cheek in the year of brutality.

Regret could not describe his outcome for his fatal decision that cost him the love of his life. If he could rewind time, he would take her as a wife, he would take the Hero of Ferelden as his queen, not minding if she were an elf.

"Breakfast is served, Your Majesty." A guard exclaimed from behind the close door

The King shoved his impossibly soft sheets away as he prepared to start his day. His _lifeless, typical, boring,_ day.

However, he put his invisible mask of joy and politeness on before he walked out of his chambers.

/\\\/\\\/\\\/\

 _The Orlesian council is fundamental role in peacemaking and decisions._

"Bring the elves." The Empress commanded hastily to the guard that was standing below her.

The guard nodded curtly before rushing to fetch the elves that were currently in the filthy dungeons. They had been contained there until the judgement. It was long overdue, considering Clarice had her mage sister to fret over. However, her brother, a Council member, insisted for it to be done this evening.

"Those vile elves need to be locked up," Pierre muttered obnoxiously from beside her.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes for another one of her brother's distasteful comments. Clarice never understood her brother's hatred of elves and everything elf related. No matter the source of his enmity, she did not allow it to influence her own decisions.

She responded sharply, "Let us wait until after their hearing before we comment. Agreeable, brother?"

The younger sibling shot her a glare before turning his attention to the other direction. Clarice did not know why she agreed to Pierre joining the Council. Perhaps it was pity. She always knew how much he loved power; sometimes she believed he envied her for it.

The four members and the Empress were sitting in the crescent shape table. Her brother Pierre and another Lord Vane, were conversing quietly. She sat in the middle with Mother Liolac to her right and Lord Frederick on her left.

If Clarice disliked anyone more than Pierre, it would be Frederick. He was a middle-aged man who thought he knew far more than the Empress and disapproved of her greatly. He once declared her to be an 'inexperienced young girl'.

Basil had counselled her to beat him with her courage and generosity however, she could not sway his opinion. She simply decided to let the man continue his dislike for her, considering it was mutual.

The council members insisted on being present to _every_ judgement she made. They held the irksome belief that they could actually influence her decision. Of course, their opinion mattered greatly however they needed to keep their catty comments to themselves and speak facts only. The Empress grew tired of their foolish views; she wished she could make judgements unaided.

The large doors swung open to allow the guards to herd in the group of disheveled elves. They pushed them in front of the table, in front of Clarice and the Council. The guards stood few feet away, with Spymaster Ivan and Commander Danna behind them, looking proper.

"Your Majesty, these are the elves who have fled from the Palace. They did not succeed and the remaining have been brought here for judgement." Basil chirped devotedly.

He was holding a few papers in his hand and sauntered near the elves. She assured Basil by nodding her head before turning her attention to the stray elves.

Clarice studied the elves, leaning forward in her chair. There were a total of six and she could recognize a few. One served food entrees and Clarice believed one had dressed her for a ball once, however she could not remember fairly well.

They were all trembling in fear and the Empress would have thought, if they had enough courage to flee, they would have a brave face for the judgement.

"Stole food that belonged to the Palace. Took our weapons and fled," The Empress bit the inside of her cheek, "very unbecoming. However, my only fleeting question is, where were you planning to hide?"

The elves shared a worried look.

The Empress continued with a shrewd look, "Or should I say, what were you planning to find?"

The elves seemed to grow even more nervous, fidgeting in place until one lifted his head to meet her gaze. His light doe eyes dead locked into her dark ones.

His voice rang in the echoing chamber as he declared, "The Dalish."

"The Dalish?" She asked, even though she previously knew. "That is rather bold."

A brave male elf said, "Yes, Your Majesty. We had the intentions of finding the Dalish and joining them. We regret it very much."

Clarice cocked her head and raised a brow as a stocky elf announced, "The Palace is our home and we beg for your forgiveness."

The elf was obviously exaggerating their plea. To survive, people say the craziest things. The Empress did not think much of it for it was expected. She watched the elves and noticed that behind the pleads of forgiveness were clenched fists that were turning ruby red.

"Your Majesty, these elves are traitors. They are replaceable." Mother Liolac spoke up softly, as if the elves were a pair of shoes she had grown tired of.

"They deserve to rot in the dungeons." Pierre spat.

He leaned back in the chair and she expected the members to scold him for his harsh language however they let it pass and smirked.

Clarice could not believe that. She shook her head as she crossed her fingers on the table and sat up straighter.

She asked, genuinely curious, "Why should you not be executed? You have broken many Orlesian laws. Why should I keep you?"

"Doube our shifts, do not pay us. Please, Your Majesty. We promise we will be loyal and grateful to Orlais forever." Another female elf with short braided hair promised.

When Clarice turned her attention to the elf, she almost crinkled her eyes. Seeing, the small female elf, reminded her of the Hero of Ferelden. The same lithe frame and pointy ears.

She had met the Hero years back, after she ended the fifth blight. It was a joyous night however bittersweet. For when Alistair's Landsmeet happened a few days after, Lyna was nowhere to be seen.

Alistair had been most affected by losing his lover to Ferelden monarchy. He could not take an elf as a Queen, for hear of a noble revolt. Lyna was a proud woman. Alistair confessed that she had declined his offer to remain in Denerim as his mistress and shortly disappeared afterward. Clarice had her suspicion that she reunited with her former Dalish clan.

"A questionable promise," The Empress stated curiously, "will you keep it?"

The elves nodded rapidly and at once. They dropped to their knees and bowed their heads. A gesture that was all too familiar to her.

"Yes, Your Radiance." The trembling male elf announced, sounding truthful.

Clarice stayed silent as she raced the options in her head. The elves _have_ done the Empire wrong however it was not an enormous treason.

After a few hushed minutes, the Empress announced, "Very well, I have made my decision."

"For three months, you will be assigned double shifts and receive no pay. You will also be separated from your co-conspirators and given new duties that are far from the palace tasks you enjoyed previously." She finished.

The elves sighed in relieve as they all exclaimed their thanks to the Empress. They were herded out the room in a few short minutes.

"What?" Pierre exclaimed while shooting from his seat and slapping his hand on the table. "They must be locked away or executed!"

She partly decided to take pity for their well-being however more to spite her brother. He needed a reminder of who ruled Orlias.

Clarice huffed and shut her eyes as she pronounced, "The decision is final, brother."

The Empress stood, prepared to leave the dreadful Council room. She desired to see her youngest she how she was managing the new magic abilities. The Inquisition had sent a letter Vivienne would agree to the training and they would be pleased to have her sister in Skyhold.

Her sister had kept to herself. She remained the rest of her days in her chambers, with her handmaiden bringing her food to her. It was pretentious however Clarice could empathise with what she was developing through. It is like realizing you are a whole different person, perhaps dangerous.

The Council disagreed with her _solution,_ however they stood quiet, silently judging. And as for Orlesians asking where Vienet was, the Empress would simply say the young girl had desired to travel to Antiva for a long, long, vacation.

"If you could stay, Your Majesty?" Mother Liolac called out suggestively as Clarice was about to push her seat in.

"This cannot delay?" Clarice gingerly asked. "I have other matters to attend to."

"Of course she does." Pierre muttered and she gave him a glare.

"Your Majesty, I mean not to offend you however," Lord Vane started, "it seems you have been too _generous_ with your time as of late."

"Generous?" A curl tugged at her lip. "What doe that supposed to mean?"

Pierre stated passingly, "You put things off for too long, sister."

"Forgive me, I have had much occurring. I intend to have better time management from thus on." She declared. "Now, if you could please excuse-"

"We had expected an heir by now." Mother Liolac blurted.

 _An heir, now? Was this woman mad?_

"I am only 23!" She exclaimed, shocked by the statement. "I have plentiful time."

Lord Vane agreed, "You never know when could disaster strikes."

Peering at the faces of the Council she scoffed, "I will produce an heir whenever I please."

"See! You do as you please and never take in consideration of the Council." Pierre shouted and the Empress' jaw dropped, however she quickly picked it up and shot daggers at the man.

"I beg your pardon?" She sneered. "Such statements could imprison you, _brother_ ,"

The Council gasped. Basil immediately came to Clarice's rescue, saying, "The Empress has matters to attend to, if you would excuse us."

Excuse _us_?

"And if I wish to stay? Who are you to command me?" She turned her attention back to the Council.

She sneered, "Must I remind you all who is Empress. For it seems most have forgotten-"

"Clarice!" Basil exclaimed before the Empress could mouth off them any longer. He plead, "Please."

Clarice shot a look at Basil then took a deep breath, relaxing. She needed to leave the Council room to blow off anger. She stormed out of the room with her Advisor trailing quickly behind her.

Before the door shut, she heard her _dear_ younger brother mutter, "I truly believe my sister is not suitable to be Empress."

If it were not for Basil's leading her away forcefully, Clarice would have stormed in there in her defense with.

* * *

The Empress hesitated before she knocked on Vienet's door. Her sister was to leave tomorrow morning and she wished to fare her a private goodbye. When she found about her magic, Vienet had been isolated, distancing herself from the Empress and her siblings.

When no response arrived, she decided to enter her chambers anyways. Vinet was standing in front of the fire, wearing her light sleep attire. Hopefully, she packed her favorite clothing, Clarice was certain they would not have suitable replacements in Skyhold.

"Vienet?" Clarice said as she stood beside her sister and examined her face.

Her sister had taken after her mother more, with blonde hair, blue eyes and elegant face. The Empress took after her father, with his dark hair and strong features.

Her sister's face was unmasked showing furrowed brows that could leave worry wrinkles. She also had dark bags under her eyes and Clarice wondered when the last time the girl-no, the mage-had received a good night's rest.

Vinet drawled, "Yes?"

Clarice stared at her sister, at her eyes which were transfixed on the fire upon her. The reflection burned in her eyes, perhaps it always head, and she had never noticed.

"How are you? Completed packing?"

"Yes, I am just a little tired." Vienet gave her a shy side glance, contemplating if she should say more.

With a reassuring look, she continued, "It's odd leaving the Palace. Maker, I have never been out of Orlais."

"You will do fine, I am sure of it." Clarice said with a smile. "How was your day?"

"The same, being a mage and all." They laughed, a delightful sound, but there was a hard edge to it. "You?"

"Fine, I suppose." She cast away her eyes away and shifted.

"Clarice, I was wondering, what did you tell the Council?"

"The truth," She stated, "However what I will tell the nobles, a lie."

"What is it?" She questioned while smiling slightly.

"You took a vacation to Antiva. A _long_ Vacation." She declared.

"What happens when they have suspicions?"

Clarice laughed, "Then let us hope you visit frequently."

/\\\/\\\/\\\/\

 _Empress Clarice,_

 _We understand the type of situation this is, especially in Orlais. Truthfully, at first, we were wary of taking her in, considering the Chantry states for mages to join the Circle. However, as we can tell, the Chantry is not in a stable position now._

 _The Inquisition has discussed this and would be honored to have the mage in our custody. Skyhold will welcome the young girl with open arms._

 _As for her tutor, Vivienne has agreed to take the spot. I believe she is suitable, she will mentor her protegee very well._

 _Please notify us for her arrival,_

 _Inquisitor Cadash_

The carriage ride to Skyhold had been bumpy, gravelly and uncomfortable. It also did not help Vienet felt like her fingers and toes were about to freeze off any minute.

The carriage itself was luxurious and had purple plush seats however the long travel had been exhausting. Taking into consideration they only stopped once, her stomach panged with hunger. Vienet would kill for a nice bath and meal, both at high temperatures.

 _Andraste's tits, the Frostbacks are freezing._ She pulled her fur coat around her tighter and shivered. Even though she was wearing rather heavy clothing, Orlesian fashion had always been lighter and swift.

Just thinking about Orlias made her slightly saddened. She disliked many, many Orlesian traditions and culture however she knew she would miss its divine food. Every meal in Orlais was a feast.

What she would miss most would be her siblings. Marie, who always cared about her and Pierre who supported her coming to Skyhold. Clarice may not be her favorite siblings however Vienet found a new bond with the Empress when she went out of her way to protect her from the Circle and other nobles.

And as for being a mage, Vienet felt different. Very different, almost as if she changed her whole identity and became a new person. Having never met a mage before, she wondered if they had similar experiences when discovering their abilities.

She knew Thedas' views on mages. Some were welcoming, most were scared. Vienet did not necessary feel dangerous, even though she could not control her magic properly yet. Wondering what she was capable of was a frightening yet exciting thought.

"Your Highness, we have arrived in Skyhold." The coachman announced from outside the carriage.

The window in the coach fogged up and she urgently wiped it away and she practically stuck her nose on the glass as they neared the gate.

Her shivering abruptly stopped as she beheld her eyes on Skyhold. The castle looked as if it floated on clouds, it was a glorious sight.

The castle had been a ruin before the Inquisition arrived, however the exterior was completely repaired. It was not as elegant as the Palace however it had its own charm with its Inquisition banners that hung down the tall walls. Skyhold looked sturdy, _ready for battle_ , not like a Palace.

She had to remind herself she was in Ferelden now.

Finally, the horse came to a halt as they neared. She could hear the coachman jumping off and walking towards the cart. He swiftly swung open the door and her stomach knotted as she took the nameless man's hand and examined Skyhold.

Vienet lifted her eyes to see the tall closed gate that stood before her.

Suddenly, the portcullis slowly lifted up with a rustling creak of chains. Vienet looked behind her, as if she expected the coach to follow her into Skyhold. However she realized she was alone.

She shook her head as she took one step forward on the gray cobblestone. That step turned into another. Another, turned into many more as she made her way through the bridge with a pounding heart that felt like it would burst out any second

Vienet knew she could not turn back, not now or ever. She was no longer an Orlesian princess, from today she would be perceived as a dangerous mage. Someone to be watched, feared. Worse yet, she would be an apostate: a mage not under the thumb of the Chantry Circle and their guardian Templars.

Shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath through her nostrils she watched the the final gate lifted open before her. The Inquisition banner immediately stares down at her. However their are other tall things staring at her as well.

Standing there, awaiting her arrival was the Ambassador Josephine and her future mentor, Vivienne.

Vivienne looked elegant as ever, with shoulders back and head held sky high, similar to her sisters aura. Clarice had said the Mage was cunning and deceiving, _a true Orlesian_. All the teacher could offer her was a small smirk as Vienet approached them with caution.

She looked regal in a white dress, her staff strapped to her back to leave the elegant dark hands free at her sides. Vienet wondered if and when she would get a staff as well.

She did not quite understand how the magic thing functioned.

The Ambassador carried a board with her and grinned from ear to ear. Everytime she saw her, Josiephine always had a bright smile, she wondered if her jaw ever hurt. She seemed like a friendly enough face.

"Finally arrived, my dear." Vivienne softly chanted as she swayed her hips to nervous new Mage. She greeted Vienet by kissing her on both cheeks, barely touching her skin, and smiling slyly at her.

The smile sent a chill through her spine.

"It is good to see you arrived safely!" Josephine exclaimed. "How are you?"

Vienet knew what she was supposed to say, _Very well, thank you. As for you?_ However, this was not Orlias and she was not going to play the Game anymore, things are different in Ferelden.

"Truthfully?" Vienet asked, giving a shy smile. "Nauseated."


End file.
